I call this series “Pots and Life” because I want it to be about how pots enter my everyday life. When looking at pots in institutional spaces like galleries or museums, or even on a website, where they’re typically shot with a graduated backdrop, we’re prone to forget that the completion of a pot is found in its use.

Pots are presently in an odd place for just that reason – wanting to be taken seriously as art, but simultaneously functional. A pot can’t be on a pedestal and on one’s table at the same time. Furthermore, the form of a pot is innately limited in its ability to carry and convey meaning. But I won’t try to solve the identity crisis here – just make note of it.

Awhile ago I fired a wood kiln with Matt Bukrey and I helped him cook Japanese breakfast. This meal is similar – probably not a typical Japanese dinner, but certainly a variation on a Japanese breakfast. I’ve left off the miso soup and incorporated a cucumber salad. No pickled plums (my word, they are surprising) – but some spicy chocolate for dessert, instead.

The big white bowl holding the cucumber salad is one that I made. It’s a nice bowl, sturdy, even a decent shape for use as a mixing bowl. I made it in 2008, in one of my first classes at Lillstreet, and vaguely recall wanting nesting bowls for the kitchen (there’s a pair) – score one for me. At the time I hadn’t quite realized that one could throw a form and add the finger-marks as a final touch. The glaze is a matte white that has since left the studio rotation. It has a buddy that nests inside of it. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind more of these.

The smaller charcoal-colored bowl is named “Pinky” for the marks it carries, made by pink underglaze. Jayson Lawfer made it a couple-few years ago. It’s one that I fell in love with on sight – nothing to do with use – so I’ve also had to come to terms with it as an eating vessel. (He was, at the time, resident artist at Lillstreet and making a lot of carbon-trapping porcelain ware. This one was sent to a gallery in Atlanta, from which I purchased it via the online show. So it goes!)  The gesture of it pleases my eye, but doesn’t make it awkward to eat from. Its curve and small foot fit nicely in my hand. This aesthetic has the ability to become austere – a nice complement to the cucumber, but I wouldn’t pick it for casserole. Luckily I like to eat foods that work with the piece. Cucumber salad is made with small cut-up cucumber and wakame – purchased dehydrated, and soaked for 15-20 minutes. The sauce is a mixture of mirin, sake, seasoned rice vinegar, some water to cut the acidity, and miso paste. Bigger cucumbers require seeding. Add some shredded carrot if you like.

Plate with tofu, topped with fresh ginger and soy sauce: Ben Krupka. I was fortunate to attend a workshop led by him and Tara Wilson out at Waubonsee Community College. The plate has a nice deep dish to it, which is a really nice quality that’s rare in commercial ware. Up until about a year ago, I was really buying for looks – and I do love these plates (I’ve a pair) for themselves. They’re easy to use, too – a nice quality.

Bowl with rice and teriyaki salmon: Simon Levin. I fell in love with this bowl for the trimming on the bottom. The interior has some small cratering in the glaze but this technical defect didn’t stop me from buying it. At first I wasn’t sure about the glaze color – it’s a matte-to-icy clear or celedon. It turns out that it complements some foods perfectly, and the interior curve works well for eating with chopsticks. Teriyaki sauce is equal parts mirin, soy sauce (I use japanese), and sake, with a bit of sugar (I use brown). Jasmine rice.

And the first to enter the scene tonight – a cup by Charlie Jahn. First? Yes – I got home from the studio, poured myself a drink, then got the rice cooking, salmon thawing, and cucumber cut – in that order. The cup fits my hand well; my index finger rests under the lip and pinky holds the lower curve. It’s the kind of cup that I like to fill and finish, as opposed to, say, a whiskey cup, that’ll have a big splash in the bottom and plenty of airspace. This gem caught a bending cone and bears a scar on its leeward side, else I wouldn’t have it – but I ground most of the cone off, and find it to be a perfect accidental mark. Wood ash makes the glaze flow and break beautifully over throwing lines; it calls for only transparent liquids. It’s become my sake cup – anybody else have pots that are used for only specific sorts of things? – and, with its thin wall, is just right.

From door to table in 25 minutes. Cheers.

For awhile, this cup by Matt Metz was part of my morning routine. Every morning I take my photos, come back inside, and make a cup of Slimfast for breakfast. (I need something in order to function at my best, something sweet but not too sugar-laden, and this works better than Carnation. So.) Finally in September I went for my Matt Metz cup. Between Mothers’ Day, when I bought it at the St. Croix pottery tour, and the move, it had gone unused. I bought the cup because I saw it and had to have it. (I still want one of Dan Anderson’s watertower jars.)

Anyway, so the cup is beautiful, it feels good in my hand, it feels good to drink from. And it meets the breakfast requirements: smooth interior, and large enough. I’ve used it quite a bit. While I sometimes wonder if the use is too ordinary for such a lovely piece, maybe that’s the point.

Wood-fired plate by Ben Krupka. I bought this pair from him on their way out of the kiln at a WCC workshop and they’re up there on my favorites list. They’re pretty, have adequate heft, are dished enough to keep food in, and have enough of a foot to be securely hand-washed.

The new place has a dishwasher, so that last bit isn’t as much of a concern, but still.

Another Pots and Life entry was about the last thing on my mind after last night’s hike, but the plate was so pretty that I had to take a picture. Fish tacos! Corn tortillas (a little black is essential to flavor) some tilapia fillet (jury is still out on that), lightly sauteed onion, fine sliced red cabbage, topped with some specially doctored mayo. Mayo, fresh lime juice, a splash of vinegar, and finely chopped garlic, parsley, cilantro, salt, pepper, and a couple kinds of pepper – ancho powder, and one other. I declared it a victory.

It was Mothers Day weekend, 2010. I was on the St. Croix Valley potters’ tour with a couple of friends. I had long admired Matt Kelleher’s work. I was looking for dinner plates. When I saw this one, I didn’t stand much of a chance. The slip (hidden by food, naturally) has some beautiful variations. I enjoy the inscribed arcs, the dots of glaze. They’re sweet little details about which I had a spirited discussion with one of my friends. For me they show the hand of the maker; for him they detract from a soda-fired purist approach. I suppose we’re both right.

It held today’s lunch beautifully. I’d made chicken salad from last night’s baked chicken, toasted some ciabatta, and added sliced tomato. Chopped the rest of the tomato over some lettuce, broccoli, and parsley.

Last week’s firing of Gary the Groundhog yielded some good pots, some not-so-good pots, and lots of information. But that’s another story. Today’s story: a nice little plate by Ryan Strobel. It didn’t quite survive the firing, but it’s a Good form with a pretty skin, so he gave it a quick sanding and sent it away with me. Yay!

Today I used my new plate to hold some lunch. My little avocado-egg-onion-salsa taco looked so pretty on the plate that I couldn’t resist a photo.

The plate is between eight and eight and a half inches across. It’s pretty flat, but there’s enough depth and breadth to hold and keep food. (That seems obvious, but if you’ve ever used a too-flat plate…) I like a good rimless plate and this one is a convenient size, so I have a feeling it will get a lot of use.